Kyle sat on the far edge of the academy’s training ground, the dying sunlight casting long shadows over his worn-out practice sword. His interface flickered faintly in front of him.

  

  Skill Awakened: [Skill Mastery – Passive]

  Grants rapid proficiency gain for all learned skills. Learning rate increased by 40%.

  He stared at the message for what felt like hours.

  No class.

  No official title.

  Just a skill… that shouldn’t have appeared.

  Classes were supposed to come first. Skills followed. That was how the system worked—how it had always worked.

  And yet, here it was. Quietly tucked away in his status panel. No announcement. No flash of divine power. Not even the academy’s artifact detected it.

  Kyle clenched his fists.

  “…Am I broken?”

  Panic brewed.

  Scrolls flew. Lights blinked. Paperwork piled like mountains. Dozens of low-ranked Tower gods, each with titles like Record Keeper, Dungeon Overseer (Sub-Korea), and Skill Manifestation Clerk, scrambled for answers.

  "Who the hell logged a skill without a class!?"

  "That breaks at least twelve protocols!"

  "Was this a system breach?! Did someone override a ceremonial lock?"

  A poor intern deity held up a smoking crystal.

  "Th-There's no class signature… the skill just appeared."

  "WHAT!?"

  Another deity gasped. “Was it tampered with from another dimension?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “No traces.”

  “Then… how?”

  Silence.

  No one had an answer. And worse—none of them even suspected the truth.

  That fate itself had bent ever so slightly… and no one noticed the hand behind it.

  In the silent expanse of the cosmic void, two immense figures observed from afar—Vishnu and Brahma—their expressions unreadable.

  “He slipped through,” Brahma murmured.

  Vishnu gave a slow nod. “As if he was meant to.”

  They both knew.

  Shiva had acted.

  But the silence in the Tower, the panic among the lesser gods, proved one thing: he had done it perfectly.

  No trace. No ripple in the Akashic logs. Just a classless boy… who now bore a divine anomaly.

  "Should we act?" Brahma asked.

  "No," Vishnu said, gaze fixed on the flickering thread in the void. "Let the world notice him on its own."

  Kyle didn’t wait for the academy to make it official.

  He left two nights later, while most students were celebrating their class advancements or sleeping off the exhaustion of training.

  There was no need for fanfare.

  The message was clear.

  He was a classless anomaly—and had no place among the elites.

  His last stop was a dim little food cart near the outer district walls, the same place where three orphans had once shared burnt ramen and big dreams.

  Arin, the calm Chrono Healer, waited with a small paper bag.

  Jin, the fiery Spellblade, had his arms crossed, clearly trying not to look too emotional.

  They talked. Laughed. Pretended things were normal.

  Kyle never mentioned he was leaving. But Arin already knew.

  “You’re going, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

  Kyle nodded after a moment. “…There’s nothing left for me here.”

  She didn’t argue. Instead, she reached into the bag and pulled out a carefully wrapped item.

  

  [A-Rank Sword: “Moonfang Blade”]

  Durability: SS+ | Grants enhanced stamina efficiency. Resonates with the user’s intent.

  “Take it,” she said. “Even if the world sees nothing in you, we do.”

  Jin tossed him a potion belt, scoffing. “Try not to die. That’s my job when we reunite.”

  Kyle couldn’t say a word. So he nodded, gave them a faint smile—and turned into the night.

  Far away, in a realm untouched by time or logic… something ancient stirred.

  A presence, long dormant, turned its gaze toward Earth.

  Its eyes narrowed—not at the gods, not at the Tower.

  But at a single boy who now walked a path no system could predict.